


No one beside us will ever know

by Veraverorum (your_Mother)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-18 17:15:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1436371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_Mother/pseuds/Veraverorum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What's written in Bilbo's book isn't the actual story. Some stuff may differ.<br/>Or said, sketches from how Bilbo and Dwalin went from friends to lovers.</p><p>(written for the Dwilbo week 2014)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. From friends to lovers

At the beginning it was master Hobbit for Dwalin.   
  
Just a guest with a full pantry from which the Company took handfuls of delicious food.  
  
And Dwalin was the first of the unexpected visitors that would turn upside-down Bilbo's life. His first contact with everything that was dwarfish.  
  
Then the Quest started and all of them fought together to survive from the dangers they run into.  
  
It was inevitable that some connections were born in those circumstances. Friendship was the first to happen between all them, somewhat.  
  
Social status didn't matter anymore when they spent all their time together with other dwarves (and a hobbit) on the road with a daredevil challenge in mind, when one constantly put his life on the line and had to depend on the others' help.  
  
So they were all friends, even with the hobbit. He was master Bilbo by then.  
  
He was not fragile, not in the flowers' way, but his Sting wasn't much of a thorn of defence. The dwarves kept an eye on him at turns. And maybe someone did it more than others. Yet Bilbo did prove himself time and time again. He was deserving of the dwarves' friendship.  
  
When their Quest ended, with all the sufferance it comported, each one of the survivors did not feel prone to let the others go. Even Bilbo.  
  
  
  
Later, in his book, Bilbo may have written he returned to his home with not many belongings more than the day he departed from it, but he left out a really important detail.  
  
He did not return alone.  
  
And this is the story of what really happened.

 


	2. Injury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Injury

As the dangers were many along their way, so were the chances of getting hurt.  
  
Even though dwarves were leathery creatures, the did suffer from minor injuries, stuff that really should have not mattered, since there were others that put their lives at risk.  
  
Thorin gave all of them a scare that should have made the entire Company's hair turn white, if not for Tharkun's intervention.  
  
In that moment their King was being looked over by Oin to be sure of his condition.  
  
And as their apothecary was occupied with the regal ass, the others had to patch themselves up while waiting for their turn.  
Some were burned, some were slashed and some were just utterly dirty.  
  
Master Bilbo was mostly scared and overly worried, and still frantically looking around even when their King had finally accepted his help.  
  
Then he spotted Dwalin who was crouching on a stone, looking at his hand while opening and closing it.  
  
The hobbit came closer, curious to what the dwarf was doing.  
Dwalin grunted in acknowledge at him approaching.  
  
Once Bilbo would have cowered at what sounded like a warning like this one, but it seemed like he'd left behind in the goblin's caves the proper hobbit he'd used to be.  
  
“Let me see your injury, master Dwalin” he said almost meekly, but he looked at the dwarf straight in the eyes in a confident manner.

Dwalin debated silently with himself if he should have abided the hobbit's words, still presented him his hand to have a glance over.  
  
Bilbo took it gently between his small and pudgy hands and that made the dwarf wonder whether the hobbit's hands were really tiny, or if they seemed that way just 'cause they were compared to his own.  
  
Bilbo scrutinized the gash and then blew his breath over it.  
  
“You're just blowing the dirt away, not curing it” Dwalin stated, not even sure of what he was expecting from the hobbit's intentions.  
  
“Yes, but surely I can't make it worse than this” smiling kindly, Bilbo answered him.  
  
Dwalin was dumbstruck by the hobbit, and felt the temperature rise in his cheeks.  
Maybe he was getting a fever.  


 


	3. Protective

Dwalin was a fighter. Dwalin was a double axes wielder. Dwalin was made for duty and to duty he was married, or so he thought.  
He had no gentle hands and neither kind words to spare.  
He was born from stone and as stone he was solid. His muscles were trained and his strength vicious.  
  
Yet whenever master Bilbo looked at him, eyes smiling in sync with his mouth, or checked what remained of his wounds from the clash against Azog for be sure they were scarring suitably and not getting infected; Dwalin felt his knee become wobbly like they were made of jelly.  
  
There was something in his stomach that felt not right, like he was going to throw up. On top of Bilbo's curls.  
  
But it did not feel like the usual nausea from a drunk night.

It got worse when master Bilbo took the dwarf's humongous hand in his small ones.  
  
Or caressed the skin of Dwalin's arms and legs to inspect the injuries.  
  
Dwalin felt coddled like when he was a dwarfling in his mother's arms.  
  
And it kept happening even at Beorn's house.  
  
The dwarves felt menaced by the skinchanger, but Bilbo became his favourite in no time and acted as mediator between the two parties.

At night, when they were getting ready to lay down, Oin and Bilbo went through their patients to give them the nightly ointments.  
  
When Bilbo was handling Dwalin, the dwarf let himself slip out a confession “I don't think the skinchanger will help us. Or even less that he's trustworthy.”  
  
“Don't worry master Dwalin. I will protect you” Bilbo smiled and even though Dwalin had his stomach rolling around, he felt at ease.

 


	4. Separation

They had been exhausted by their stay in Mirkwood and poisoned by the giant spiders.  
They had no strength left to put up a fight against the elves too.  
  
They had been chained and taken to the dungeons to be imprisoned into their cells, one for each room.   
  
The cells all faced the same direction, looking over a wall, so the dwarves did not understand their predicament till they calmed down and tried to count each other by calling their names.  
  
They were a member less, and that one was Master Bilbo.  
Master Bilbo had been lost to them. Again.

In that moment Dwalin was glad to be alone in his cell, for he was feeling something arise inside of him and it was not a nice feeling.  
  
He had felt worse than this only when Erebor had been under attack from the evil spawn of a drake.  
  
It was not that Bilbo was defenceless.  
He had demonstrated the contrary more than once, fighting with his cunning mind and his Sting.  
  
Still, Dwalin was worried for his absence.  
  
There had been spiders and elves and the dwarf was not sure which one was the worst opponent.  
  
He would have been more at ease with the difficult situation if he did know where Bilbo was.  
  
Maybe it was a good thing he was not in the prison with them, held captive by these elves that did not demonstrate the passive friendship of the people of Rivendell.  
  
But the apprehension was not chased away by that little blessing.  
  
This time around Dwalin felt the toll of being separated from Bilbo.

 


	5. Comfort

It happened when everything was over.  
  
Dwalin felt like crying, for his King and one of his closest friends and kin was dying inside a tent near him.  
The young princes had fallen on the battlefield and Thorin would be following them soon.  
  
Bilbo was there, giving his farewell to their leader, and in a little while he would exit.  
  
Dwalin felt like a coward. He was a strong warrior, but had had not the guts to stop his King when he was loosing his mind and turning against a former member of the Company.  
  
The guard was contemplating what would the future reserve for him, now that Erebor was recaptured paying a hard price.  
  
There was not much for him to do actually in their re-established home that could make him feel alive more than what already happened and was lost.  
He would go on and rebuild Erebor and then what?  
  
His musing was interrupted by the tent flapping and a muffled sounds coming from their Hobbit.  
  
There were tears falling from his eyes and such sadness surrounded him that Dwalin felt more grief gripping at his heart.  
  
Must have been his face that portrayed the same anguished feelings as Bilbo that compelled the hobbit to approach him.  
  
Dwalin found himself wrapped in Bilbo's arm, for how far the hobbit's short limbs could reach around the dwarf's bulky biceps.

It was unexpected and a first for Dwalin. The physical contact between the hobbit and him ad always been restricted to hand touching when there were injuries on him to be healed, but nothing more.  
  
And Bilbo's head was tucked just right under Dwalin's chin that with just a little bending, he could bury his nose between the matted curls and still smell the dirt and the blood from the battlefield.  
  
There was something more underneath these. A scent that must have been original to the hobbit.

Even if his world was crushing down on him, Dwalin felt comforted by Bilbo's presence.  
  
Awkwardly the dwarf patted the small back, hoping to let Bilbo feel the same sensation.

 


	6. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Must admit, this has been my fave chapter to write :3

He was arisen by the wonderful smell coming from the kitchen.  
It tantalized his nose, calling him at its source to be devoured whatever it was.  
  
And knowing Bilbo, as Dwalin did in fact know him well, he had surely made something mouthwatering.  
  
Dwalin got up from the bed and tried to give himself a more presentable semblance.  
  
Even if he remained inside Bag End, that was still not the proper way of present oneself.   
Or so Bilbo would have told him. The hobbit was rubbing off on him.  
  
Exiting the master bedroom, he stopped by the nearby room to pick up the sleeping fauntling from his bed.  
  
Frodo had already grown up since the day he was welcomed in their house, but for Dwalin it wasn't a great effort to carry him around the complicated hallways of the hobbit hole.  
  
When two small arms wrapped around his neck and a wet kiss was plastered on his cheek, Dwalin smiled at the waking fauntling.  
  
“Good morning da” Frodo yawned in his beard.  
  
“Morning badger, ready for breakfast?” he asked.  
  
Frodo nodded against his cheek as they were entering the dining room where Bilbo was arranging the last dishes on the table.  
  
He took Frodo from Dwalin's embrace and positioned him on his chair.  
  
The adults sat down one in front of the other and smiled to their beloved, before starting the first breakfast of the day.

  
  
If somebody had told a young Dwalin that he would have spent a portion of his middle-aged years in a peaceful place of rolling green hills and short people with hairy feet, he would have surely not believed them.   
  
Who wanted to fool him?! He was a warrior born from stone and in stone he would spend his life.  
  
Yet there he was, living in a hole in the ground in a lush land called Shire with his Hobbit husband and their nephew/adopted-son.  
With his family.

 


	7. Epilogue

“You did not write about me at the end of your book” Dwalin said, peeking at the manuscript from over Bilbo's shoulder.  
  
“Go away you snooper! I've already sent Frodo out for he was meddling...” muttering back, Bilbo turned his head up at the dwarf with a conspiratorial smile.  
  
The hobbit had aged a lot, as his wrinkly skin and white hair demonstrated.  
Yet he was still the most beautiful sight Dwalin could wish to lay his eyes upon.  
  
“I left out so many important details even you would wonder if our Quest and this book are the same story... No one beside us will ever know”, Bilbo wrote the last word of his story and, still sitting, fully turned to his husband “have you organised all necessary?”  
  
“I have, Bilbo” Dwalin pointed out with his chin at the backpacks laying in a corner of the room.  
  
“Good, I've missed going on an adventure with you!” and he rose from his chair.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos nd kind comments you've left on this fic.   
> I hope you had as much fun reading this as I had writing it :3

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first time writing about this pairing, so comments and constructive criticisms are always welcomed :3
> 
> And self-pimping time: you can find me at veraverorum.tumblr.com :3


End file.
